


Not So Different

by EmilyweepsforPilfrey



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 23:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2600993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyweepsforPilfrey/pseuds/EmilyweepsforPilfrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missy's not dead. Surprise! It comes as no shock to the Doctor when she calls him out of the blue, donning a fake accent and requesting his presence. It's obviously a trap, part of some world domination scheme, but he still goes. In the end they just can't stay away from each other. A Twissy multichap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have Twelve/Missy feels. This was born. I'm guessing it will be around 5 chapters. I am notoriously terrible at sticking to short story plans and finishing things though, so we'll see how it goes. It's my first time posting on this site, so hopefully the formatting and everything turned out okay. I don't know. It'll be a surprise for us all when I post this. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of the characters. I do, however, own a talking dalek toy which does not appear in this story.

The Doctor picks up the TARDIS phone cautiously, pausing for a moment before speaking.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a robotic voice responds. “This is an automated message service. Your presence is requested at the coordinates 747 00 00 86B by 71. Thank you, and have a good day...” the voice pauses for a moment, “Doctor.”

The line goes dead.

The voice is familiar, almost mocking, the Doctor thinks as his mind instantly calculates 543 ways this could be a trap. He’s a smart man. He knows he shouldn’t go charging blindly into situations like this, alone and vulnerable, but he pauses for barely a millisecond before punching the coordinates in and setting the TARDIS in motion. He’s never been one to resist curiosity.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, a woman hangs up the phone and laughs gleefully. Today is going to be a good day, she thinks to herself, spinning around to set the plan in motion.  

 

...

As the whirring comes to a stop and the TARDIS lands, the Doctor checks the screen to discern where he is. The screen shows a rich blue pebbled ground that meets a gently lapping purple ocean. The bottom of the screen states that the planet’s name is Locomosolarem, a planet infamous for its ability to constantly change locations. It was a mystery to all how it occurred. One day it would be floating around, fifth planet from the centre of the solar system known as B-52 and the next thing you knew it would be off somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy.

The Doctor visited this planet once when he was much younger, a past regeneration long since gone, but he has never been able to find it since. He is willing to bet that the invitation did not come from the locals (he’s had a bit of a strained relationship with the Locomosolarites ever since he accidently, and successfully, proposed to – and very nearly married – the woman who was supposed to marry the King of Locomosolarem).

He has a feeling he knows who called him and gave him the coordinates. If he is right, it will be bad, very bad, for the people of Locomosolarem; he will be in for a busy day. But he can’t help hoping that maybe, just maybe, it is _her_ that has led him here.

The Doctor steps out of his TARDIS, breathing the savoury air into his lungs. The beach is empty, a sharp contrast to the last time he visited this planet when it had been alive in a flurry of people, the sounds of laughter and voices filling the air. This time it is silent, silent apart from the voice in his head that implores him to turn to the right. He turns.

There she sits, perched upon a rock, one leg crossed over the other and her umbrella resting against the rock. The Master. The Mistress. Missy. Back again.

“Well don’t just stand there gaping at me” she says as she jumps up and glides over to him.

The Doctor stands frozen in place. Part of him knows that he should get back into the TARDIS and fly away, but another part of him knows that with Missy here the planet is in serious danger.

“Aren’t you glad to see me?” Missy asks, pouting and reaching out to let a finger gently glide across his cheek.

He doesn’t even bother asking or stating the obvious. The Master cheating death is nothing new to him. He has more important questions to ask like ‘What have you done to the planet?’, ‘What are you planning?’ and ‘Why are you so close to me, playing with my hair and looking at me like that?’.

He voices none of these questions, instead choosing to step back out of her reach and grasp his sonic screwdriver in his pocket, feeling like he has to get a grip on something, anything.

“Come on,” Missy says, stepping backwards from him towards a tree lined path. “I’ve reserved the honeymoon suite. Well, they call it the honeymoon suite. It hasn’t been used for that since the scandal during the reign of the 54th king, but of course you know all about that, don’t you, Doctor.”

She winks. The Doctor splutters, not able to find any actual words. She smiles.

He follows the female Time Lord down the path. She leads the way ahead of him, a skip in her step as she prances in diagonal lines along the path, touching leaves and flowers as she passes. The Doctor walks behind her, solemn, steady, fighting as he tries to hide that small smile that wants to break out on his face at Missy’s frolicking.

It doesn’t take long for them to reach their destination, a large oval building overlooking the purple sea with the words ‘Royal Honeymoon Suite’ written in the local language above the doorway. The Doctor stops just before the doorway, grabbing Missy’s arm and gently pulling her to a stop.

“Where are all the people?” he says, finally asking what he’s been dying to know since he set foot outside his TARDIS.

He knows she is behind it.

Missy holds her finger up to her lips.

“Shh. Don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

Her face lights up with her cheeky grin as she spins back around and walks into the building. The Doctor follows again. They walk through a couple of hallways before stepping in a waiting elevator that will take them to the second floor. The second the elevator doors close Missy turns to face him, her eyes hungry and greedy. She nips her teeth at him. The Doctor finds himself pushing his body back into the corner of the elevator as much as physically possible. He’s not quite sure why, he’s not scared of her exactly, but he’s confused and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Maybe he should just kiss her again.  Missy leans forward, already close to him in the confined space. She presses her lips together, barely able to contain her excitement. She’ll be able to share it with him soon.

The elevator doors open with a ding. They step out of the lift, the Doctor still keeping his distance from Missy, though he needn’t have tried so hard. Missy twirls around and around, arms opened wide, as they enter what the Doctor remembers to have been the bedroom of the Royal Honeymoon Suite. The room is filled with screens and machines, many of which the Doctor recognises as Time Lord technology.

The spinning Time Lord comes to a stop facing the Doctor, opening her arms wide as if showing off what she’s done.

“Ta da!”

“What is this?”

“Oh,” she says, her voice falling. “Did I disappoint you. When I said honeymoon, did you really think... oh.”

Her face dons a fake pout. The Doctor frowns, ignoring her last comment, and leans over one of the screens. It, like most of the others, shows security footage of the native people of the planet, all standing anxiously in lines.

“Well there’s always later,” she throws out there casually.

“What have you done?” he asks accusingly, still focused on the screens.

Missy tilts her head to the side with faux shame.

“Well, I might’ve told a teensy mistruth.” She holds her fingers millimetres apart, illustrating just how small the lie was in her opinion.

“Missy,” the Doctor growls as she continues to play coy.

Her eyes twinkle, saying ‘watch me’. She leans down over the machines and presses a button. She can feel the weight of his eyes on her body.

“Hello, citizens of Locomosolarem. This is your Mistress speaking.” She turns to face the Doctor, silently giggling. He isn’t amused. She speaks in a pleasing and light voice, like tinkling bells. She’s clearly enjoying herself. “Please continue to evacuate in a calm and orderly fashion. Remember no harm will come to you if you follow instructions.”

She takes her finger off the button, ending the broadcast and turns back to face the Doctor. Her voice takes on a harsher and more Scottish tone. “Well that’s not strictly true.”

“What are you doing to them? Where are you sending them?” the Doctor asks.

“Oh, nothing too horrible. Just sending them through a portal away from this planet.” She brushes off his concern with a flick of her hand, turning back to the screens and pressing some buttons.

“Where does the portal lead?”

“A black hole? A wormhole? The centre of a star?” she guesses haphazardly. “I’m sure it will be a fun surprise for them.”

“Why are they evacuating?”

“Now this is where it gets good.” She claps her hands together and giggles. “Because I told them to, came up with some story about radiation and the entire planet becoming unsafe.”

“Why?”

“I need the planet.”

“Why?”

“For you. For us.”

The Doctor looks taken aback, though realistically nothing that this Time Lord does should shock him.

“Surprise,” Missy says cheekily. “Our very own planet. You can be king and I’ll be queen. Just us in our own world.”

For some reason, the Doctor doesn’t seem to see eye to eye with Missy on this. He isn’t so keen on having his own conquered planet to rule while the corpses of the former inhabitants float through space.

“I will stop you,” he vows, his eyebrows shifting into attack mode.

“Oh, I thought you might say that,” she says, faking sadness but leaving neither of them with any doubt that she has always known what he is going to do. “You see the only way to stop me is to go down to the portal and shut it down, but, oh, that would have to be done in the next fifteen minutes before it’s too late.”

The Doctor says nothing, doing as predicted and running straight out of the room. It’s time to save another planet.

“Be safe,” Missy calls mockingly as he leaves. “Hurry back, love.”

...

Missy watches as the Doctor makes his way into the large warehouse where the portal is located. She smiles to herself as she watches him run through the corridors, slowing down each time he reaches a door to check if the controls are in there. He needn’t have. She’s made it easy for him. When she conquered the planet (although admittedly not so much ‘conquered’ as turn up unnoticed and casually slip into a position of power, using her skills and wit to become their leader, their Mistress – but conquered sounds much better) she had ordered the portal warehouse to be built with the Gallifreyan words for ‘control room’ on the door to the room itself, a small nod to him and their Gallifreyan roots. She could not have made it easier for him if she’d drawn him a map.

The Doctor looks up towards the camera he knows is there once he sees the writing on the door. If he hadn’t already known that Missy set this up just for him, just to get his attention and hold it for what would be only a tiny spec of his life, he knows it now. Missy smiles and leans forward towards the screen, her eyes focused solely on the image of the Doctor as he fiddles with the controls, trying to find a way to foil her plan. There is a way, of course, and it isn’t an oversight. She’s purposefully left holes in her plan, knowing that the Doctor, and only the Doctor, will be able to find them and slip through. That in itself is all part of her plan.

The Doctor talks to himself as he works. Missy wonders if he even realises he’s doing it. She hears him talk apparent nonsense and speak to past companions who aren’t even there. “Clara, hold down that lever for me.” “Ace, mind the blue cables, they bite.” 

What Missy sees in front of her is a lonely man, driven to madness. She recognises it. She feels it too. 

Missy talks to herself as well, although this time her words are more of a running commentary on the Doctor’s adventures. “Oh!” “Oh, you clever, clever man.” “Come on, Doctor, you’re too smart to fall for that... Good.” “That’s my boy.”

She can pinpoint the exact moment when he figures out exactly what he has to do to save the inhabitants of the planet. He jumps up, exclaiming “hah!”

She smiles, proud in a way.

It’s at this point that Missy decides to help out. She reaches out to press the intercom button, this time setting it so that it only broadcasts to the control room. The Locomosolarites don’t need to hear this.

“Well done, Doctor.” She claps. “You’ve figured it out. All you have to do is...”

“Rewire the cables to the generator to stop the portal and then plug the sonic in and reverse...” he interrupts.

“The direction of the portal so the people currently in it come back,” she says, finishing his sentence. “Everyone lives, well almost everyone. There’s just one small problem with that.”

The Doctor knows she’s baiting him, just waiting for him to ask what clever trick she’s pulled now. He obliges, asking “What?”

“If you do that, it’s going to kill you,” she sings gleefully. Her face falls as the Doctor’s eyes darken. “Oh, I probably should’ve mentioned that before.”    

Missy watches as the Doctor scans the equipment, determining that yes, if he does follow through with his plan and plug the sonic into the portal and then use it the power surge will kill him. It won’t be enough to kill him permanently, but certainly enough to force a regeneration, something which he isn’t particularly keen on going through again so soon(even if he would probably get some nicer coloured kidneys).

He furrows his brow. There’s got to be a way out. Missy watches intently, enthralled by the Doctor as he works. He’ll figure it out, he has to, but in the meantime she gets to watch him do what he does best.

She’s almost disappointed when it doesn’t take him as long as she expects to figure a way out of it, but her disappointment fades the moment he does figure it out and she gets to witness his excitement at thinking he has bested her. He jumps up, moving his hands around and doing a little dance. Then comes the solemn moment once he realises that to save the people of Locomosolarem and save himself he will have to sacrifice his precious sonic screwdriver.  She almost feels bad for him. Almost, just for a moment, and then she’s drawn back to him in the present as she watches him save the planet and escape, albeit just barely. He truly is magnificent.

...

The Doctor stops to look at the security camera sitting in one of the trees by the TARDIS. He knows she’s still watching. He’s saved the planet, brought the people back and even managed to find the hypnotised King and return the place to normalcy. He knows the Master will move on soon, as always. There are more worlds to be conquered, more challenges. There’s no fun in lingering. He thinks he is back in the good books of the Locomosolarites. All in all it’s a pretty good outcome, but it’s unnecessary.  He’s angry, sonic screwdriver-less and about to run away again to his solitary lifestyle, but he’s got one last thing to say to the woman he knows is responsible for everything everyone has gone through today.  

“Why? Why would you do all this?” It’s a rhetorical question.

“Oh, Doctor,” Missy says to the empty room. “Because I love watching you shine and you love saving worlds.”

He truly is at his best when he is escaping from a near impossible situation and saving people. Admittedly this isn’t one of her best world domination plans, not even top ten - she wasn’t even really trying - but it was enough to get the Doctor’s attention. She has achieved her true goal. If Missy can capture his attention even for a moment, even if it means destroying the universe one planet at a time, she will do it, just to see him, just to hold his gaze and know that he’s thinking of her. She would do anything to have her friend back.

 The Doctor steps back into his TARDIS, feeling a strange sense of regret in his stomach. He isn’t sure why. As he walks over to the TARDIS console to set off again, he spies a brand new sonic screwdriver sitting there. Another present. He has a pretty good idea who it is from. This time he can’t help but smile, his anger starting to vanish at the sweet gesture.

Missy watches him climb into his TARDIS, feeling the sadness and loneliness wash over her. She blows a kiss towards it as it dematerialises. She wishes he had come back to say goodbye, or even just to try to stop her from doing something like this again. In the end they both know that any attempt would be futile. She needs a challenge, something to conquer, just as the Doctor needs to run away in his blue box. It’s how they live. That’s not going to change and time soon, but at the moment their lack of proper farewell is inconsequential. 

They will meet again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has left kudos and comments.  
> In this chapter I accidently added a multitude of references to other tv shows, movies and books. See if you can spot them all.  
> I actually wrote the next chapter before this one (timey wimey and all that) so I should hopefully have it posted soon.

Missy reaches out to him again three months later, sending him a message via his psychic paper with a time and a place to meet. She signs off the note with three kisses. He wonders if it was intentional or if her mind slipped while she was composing the message.

He tries to ignore the message, and does so successfully for three months. Then, in a moment of weakness (or maybe loneliness; he's not sure, perhaps it's both) the broken man pilots his TARDIS to the location she gave him. He hopes he won't regret this, although he suspects he will. Many of the regrets in his life involve the Master.

It's a lovely planet, one he's never been to before. The place is bright and smells of honeycomb and he appears to be indoors. It reminds him of Wonkaland (another lovely place – the use of Time Lord technology (bigger on the inside) is genius – not to mention Willy Wonka himself, an old friend of the Doctor's and provider of a life time supply of chocolate, which in the Doctor's case is a lot).

He's barely been out of his TARDIS for thirty seconds when he feels a sharp tugging at his trouser leg. He looks down to see what would be best described as a real life teddy bear. It barely comes up to his knees and is easily balancing on its hind legs. He tugs at the Doctor's trouser leg again before opening his mouth and emitting a low growling noise. The Doctor frowns, wondering if he is about to be attacked by the pint-sized bear. Evidently the TARDIS can't translate this language.

"He said the Queen requests your presence," says a high pitched voice from behind him.

The Doctor spins around to see another teddy bear standing there. Clearly this one speaks English, or at least a language that the TARDIS can translate into English. The Doctor nods and utters one of his fifty-four most favourite phrases: "Take me to your leader."

The growly bear reaches up to grasp the Doctor's hand, a gesture he finds quite sweet, and begins to lead him along a series of twisting corridors. They're taking him through the back way; occasionally he has to duck his head. These corridors weren't built for him. They stop once they reach a set of large wooden doors. The growly bear knocks and the doors open. The growly bear drops his hand with another growl and gestures to the large hall in front of them. The Doctor enters the room.

"Well you certainly took your time."

The Doctor's always known that it's going to be Missy waiting for him at the end of the hallway, but still the sight of her there surprises him. She's sitting atop a large padded throne that looks like it's big enough to sit three. She has a large fur wrap draped over her shoulders and there's a quintet of teddy bears around her. One is holding a bowl of grapes next to her, another shines her shoes while the other three busy themselves with other tasks.

"Gather 'round, children! Daddy's here!" she calls.

At her words, dozens of teddy bears come flooding into the room, all gathering around the Doctor and Missy. His eyes go wide and he freezes. They bounce, they squeak, they growl, and there's one small bear with a pink bow in her hair who is hugging his leg like she's holding onto a tree trunk for dear life.

The Doctor stammers and stumbles back a little, trying not to trip over the bears. He has been attacked by many things in his life, but never a pack of overly friendly small bears.

Missy laughs. Her laughter rings loud above the noisy bears.

"I think they like you."

All the Doctor can do is nod. There's a bear climbing up his leg. It's got a hold of his waistcoat. It's still climbing, and oh it's on his arm, resting its head on his shoulder. The bear sighs. The Doctor tries to hold back a smile and awkwardly pats the bear on the head. There, there. The bear's response is to snuggle in closer to his neck. He thinks it might be falling asleep.

He's the Doctor, the oncoming storm, reduced to a bunk bed for bears.

Missy laughs again. She claps her hands twice.

"Come on, children. That's enough. Mummy and Daddy need some time alone to catch up."

Reluctantly, the bears begin to disperse. The Doctor thinks he may be able to breathe properly again, and oh the bear's just fallen off his shoulder. He gets up quickly and squeaks before bounding off after his kin. The bear on the Doctor's leg takes a little more convincing, but eventually even she lets go and trots off after her friends.

Then they're alone: just the Doctor and Missy."

"Oh that Morgan," Missy says half to herself, sighing theatrically. "He's always climbing."

The Doctor still isn't quite sure what happened. He hovers, eyes flicking back and forth from Missy to the door the bears just disappeared through. Missy leans back in her throne (although it's more of a loveseat with bling – it's tasteful bling though, the finest rubies and sapphires the little bears could find) and she tucks her legs up underneath herself. She pats a spot on the seat next to herself.

"Come sit down and tell me about your day."

He hesitates, as any man with his wits about him and knowledge of Missy's history would (although she does have a habit of stealing his wits from him). Missy rolls her eyes and pats the seat more forcefully.

"Sit. I don't bite."

She says it with such sincerity that he almost believes her, but he knows better.

He does sit, though, because his legs are tired and he's had a long day. He intends to just sit on the very edge and rest his weary body, but the plush cushions pull him in until his feet have left the floor and he's almost awkwardly close to Missy.

"See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

He remains silent.

"So, how was your day, honey? Do you like the throne? I quite like it. It's very regal, elegant."

"What are you doing here?" he asks, ignoring her questions and getting straight to his more important ones. "Why did you enslave the bears? What do you have to gain from this?"

She rolls her eyes again at his predictability.

"I needed people to serve me and they needed someone to serve. I think it worked out quite well. Don't you think so?"

"But why are they so eager to do your bidding? What have you done to them?"

She can practically see the gears in his head working, trying to figure out what she has done and what she's planning. She almost rolls her eyes. He needn't.

"Ahah!" He jumps up and spins around to face her, hands preparing to put on a show. "Mind control! You're using mind control. You must have some sort of a machine that's connected to your brain and is broadcasting it to all of their minds at once. If I can just find it and disab-"

"Oh sit down, you old fool," she interrupts harshly. "I haven't done anything. I just turned up and they asked me to be their queen. Predictably, I said yes."

"But why would-"

"Some races live to serve, Doctor." She's actually getting a little angry now. "The Ood, the Monoids; they all live to serve. It's in their nature. Take that away and they're lost. They're nothing. Just like how you and I dictate; we lead, fight wars and be clever. They serve."

"No," The Doctor argues fervently, shaking his head. "I don't accept that. You can't just treat them like slaves. It's not right."

She sighs, although it comes out more like a growl.

"Rupert!"

A small bear runs into the room. He's young, only a baby really. He couldn't be more than three and a half years old in Earth years. Missy looks at the Doctor before turning to the bear and speaking to him, ready to prove her point.

"Rupert, you're free. You are no longer in my service. You may go wherever you choose." Her voice is harsh. The bear bursts into tears, sobbing and begging. No, Mistress. Please, Mistress.

Missy turns to the Doctor accusingly.

"Look what you did."

There's something in her voice that makes him feel guilty, like he really is the cause of the bear's tears.

"Rupert," her voice has softened, gaining a music-like quality. "Rupert, dear. I was just joking."

She laughs. The Doctor doesn't think it's funny.

Rupert looks up and speaks, scarcely daring to believe her. "You mean I can stay?"

"Of course," Missy replies. She holds out her hand and Rupert walks over to it, nuzzling his head against it. She scratches him under the chin and he appears to cheer up a little. He lets out a soft, growl of contentment.

"Thank you, Mistress," he murmurs, his tears beginning to dry up.

"No, thank you, Rupert. You're dismissed, and please tell the other kitchen staff we'll have tea at seven."

Because, despite her flaws, the Mistress does have manners.

Little Rupert runs back out of the room.

Missy turns back to the Doctor with a reproving look on her face that says 'I told you so'. Her point has been proved. The Doctor sits. The cushions pull him back into their pillowy depths. He doesn't like this, but he doesn't know what to do. The bear was crying! He can't handle a crying teddy bear.

"This seems a bit easy for you," he states, genuinely curious as to why she is here. "Where's the challenge?"

"I'm on vacation," she replies by way of explanation. Even her vacations are spent ruling planets.

She leans across until her lips are at his ear. The gap was already small enough, but now it's virtually nonexistent.

"I was bored," she whispers.

The Doctor's breathing stills. His hearts are beating hard and fast. Missy lowers her head slowly, still not touching him, but he can feel her hot breath on his neck. When she reaches the point where shoulder meets neck, she presses her lips to his skin. They're soft and gentle. She sucks lightly, and he swears she's set his skin on fire. Because he's ablaze and no amount of water is going to put him out. He's in a Master inferno.

Then she pulls back as if nothing happened and the Doctor's left confused. He clears his throat.

"You know this," he gestures around the room, indicating the planet, "isn't nearly as evil as usual. In fact, it's not really evil at all by your standards."

There was never really anything to conquer, no test for her. He doesn't even think anyone's died, surely a first with her around. They are just a willing species of little bears looking for someone to mother them and guide them. In return they spoil her, showering her with gifts and their love. She's their Wendy and they're her lost boys, or perhaps lost bears would be a better name. It's not the sort of thing he's come to expect from her. But even the Master has to take a break sometimes.

"Oh, Doctor, say something nice," she replies.

"I like it much better compared to your usual plots," he says. As much as he doesn't like the slavery, he can't deny she's making the bears happy. They really seem to adore her.

She smiles. Although she can't understand why he would prefer something like this to destroying and entire species with the touch of a button or watching whole worlds bend to her will. That's real excitement. Sometimes she feels like she doesn't understand him, and then other days they're the same. She's not nearly as reluctant to admit this as he is. But he's her Doctor and she wouldn't change him for the world.

"So, Doctor, tell me about your day."

A part of him wants to say no, but he's had such a long day and he wants to share it with someone. It's the company and companionship he misses the most. So he leans back in the throne (their shoulders are nearly touching) and talks.

He begins by telling her about how the TARDIS deliberately burnt his toast (she laughs and tells him that he's never been particularly skilful when it comes to toast). Then he tells her about how his shoe went missing and completely ignored him afterwards when he was telling it off for running away (she rolls her eyes). Next he tells her how the Daleks struck (she falls silent, eyes on him but not meeting his gaze. She plays with his collar and it feels oddly soothing). He tells her how they killed and exterminated (and even she has the decency to not look impressed by the Daleks' abilities, because she's on his side). The part about how hopeless he felt even makes it in there (thankfully she says nothing). He tells her how he took down the Daleks (and she smiles, because she's proud of him). He tells her how he told the Daleks to leave and never come back (and she can see him there, coat billowing in the wind, delivering another one of his passionate and powerful speeches that make whole armies quiver in fear and turn away). Lastly, he tells her how he finished the day by visiting an old friend; they talked and it was unexpectedly nice. (He can't get a read on her to figure out what she thinks about this.)

He stares at her once he finishes. He has a feeling, and he's not quite sure, but he thinks he wants her to kiss him. She doesn't. Instead she offers him a grape. He accepts reaching out his tongue to catch it before pulling it into his mouth. She still doesn't kiss him.

They sit there for a while in silence for a while. It's not uncomfortable, just different. She calls the bears back in and they come bounding over. She ends up with one in her lap and another sleeping next to her inside her hat. The Doctor is convinced to join in one of their teddy bear games. As he's gently tossing a giggling bear up in the air and catching it, he looks over to her to see her watching him, smiling fondly.

"Me next! Me next!" call the bears.

When it comes time to leave, she walks him back to his TARDIS. It couldn't last forever.

"So what are you going to do next?" he asks.

"Oh, I'll probably take off soon. Other planets to rule and all that; it's not so much fun on your own."

"This was nice," he says sincerely.

"I promise I'll make our next date more interesting," she vows. She's probably already planning wicked things that will keep him busy for hours.

This worries him, it really does, but he has something else to ask her.

"Where's Gallifrey?"

"That would be telling," she replies, her voice chastising as much as teasing.

He's disappointed, but he tries not to let it show. He hoped for an answer but didn't expect one from her. Yet he's got a heavy heart and a lump in his throat. He wishes she would share this with him.

"Goodbye, Doctor," she says. She reaches up to gently stroke his cheek, her eyes full of regret. He thinks he understands her a little better.

Still, she doesn't kiss him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for your response to this story. The fourth chapter should be up soon. Enjoy.  
> Also, please note the rating change. This chapter took a bit more of an adult turn. Nothing too explicit, but this is the point where the children should turn back.

The Doctor travels alone for nearly a year before he next sees Missy. It’s a relatively short time in the context of his life, but each day feels like an eternity when he’s carrying around an ache in his hearts. It hurts. It’s taken him some time to admit it, but it’s true. For so long he tries to pretend that it is just from travelling alone. He travels with a new companion for some time, a lovely bright girl from Sark, but when the heartache continues all throughout their time, he struggles to deny it. When the inevitable happens and they part ways, the Doctor has to admit that this is more than just regular loneliness. His hearts ache for his friend.

He doesn’t look for her. He knows she will find him when she’s ready. She’ll drag him off to witness some masterful plan of hers, like a sleek and elegant cat leading its master to the mangled carcass of a rabbit it’s just caught. She’s a show off, the Master, and she shows off the most for him.

She doesn’t call for him this time. Instead she comes to him. It’s the middle of the night and both the Doctor and his TARDIS are sleeping, parked safely on the outskirts of a nebula. The Doctor has warmed up to sleeping, and bedrooms in general. Ever since the TARDIS redecorated his bedroom ceiling to look like the night sky above Gallifrey, he’s had more pleasant dreams and a more peaceful sleep, although the nightmares still drift into his dreams sometimes.

Just like Miss Clavel, he awakes with a start, a horrible feeling in his stomach and the words “Something is not right” on his lips, biting through the night air. The Doctor climbs out of bed and pushes his feet into a pair of worn slippers, a gift from the people of the planet Doxos.  He knows he’s not alone in his TARDIS. He can feel it. The air is warmer now, almost like an invisible blanket that has been wrapped around his shoulders. There’s an odd feeling of comfort spreading over him. It’s particularly odd when you consider that it’s not really a normal response to realising that someone has broken into your home. Although, the Doctor never has been one for normality.

His shadow follows him along the darkened corridors of the TARDIS, only barely lit by the dimmed overhead lights. He briefly considers greeting his shadow or waving to it before deciding that this is neither the time nor the place. Plus, they’d just spend all night chatting (again) and he’d never find out who’s broken in to his TARDIS. His slippers make a soft tapping noise on the floor as he cautiously makes his way into the console room to find _her_ there. He really shouldn’t be surprised.

There Missy stands, hands slowly roaming over the controls of his TARDIS - he vows to have a word with her later about who she lets through her doors without a key. He can see Missy’s TARDIS through the open doorway, parked next to his. Evidently, even in space, one’s ship can still be boarded by pirates. But then again, Missy isn’t really a pirate. She’s more of a siren trying to seduce him with her wicked ways and drag him into the depths of her facinorous and poisonous mind.

She’s a shadow in the dark. He almost doesn’t believe she’s real, but the Missy in his dreams isn’t this lucid. Nevertheless, he still feels a compelling need to touch her, just to make sure it really is her. She’s not using any of the controls or pushing any buttons (yet); she’s just touching. He feels like he should be angry with her for the intrusion. He wants to, but the sight of her there, leant over the control panel, running her hands over _his_ ship, his TARDIS, brings about a whole different range of feelings.

She spins around, sensing his presence.

“Oh dear. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

There’s false concern in her voice that leaves the Doctor with no doubt that she hasn’t come here just to fondle his TARDIS. She’s there for him. But he still feels the need to ask.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to have a go of yours.” She continues to let her hands glide over his controls, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Yours is so much bigger and more exciting than mine. I wanted to try it out.”

She lightly runs the tips of her fingers over the edge of the console before turning one of the many dials. All it serves to do is bring some mood lighting to the previously dark console room. The Doctor knows she didn’t just pick that dial at random. Everything she is doing is calculated.

“You’ve redecorated,” she states as she leaves the console and makes her way up the stairs. “I like it.”

The Doctor’s eyes follow her wherever she goes, locked on her. She picks up a book off the shelf, raising her eyebrows, and begins flicking through it. He wants to tell her to put it down, to leave and stop embedding herself in his life, but he can’t find the words or the will. She’s caressing everything just to claim it. That book is now a Missy book, touched by her: tainted. It’s now submerged in the cloud of smoke she is spreading over his entire existence.

She’s decked out in full Mary Poppins attire, making him feel underdressed in his silk pyjamas and old slippers. He runs a hand through his already rumpled hair, but it doesn’t do any good.

Missy snaps the book shut with a thump and places it back on the shelf. It’s in the wrong place, but the Doctor doesn’t think that announcing that fact will change anything. She walks back down the stairs, casual and leisurely, her hand gliding along the banister. He can’t look away. Not even an army of Daleks could tear his eyes away from her. She stops once she reaches the Doctor, because she’s missed him so much. And he’s missed her.

This time it’s not a welcome package or a thank you. It’s a natural progression. (Although the Doctor doesn’t remember actually deciding to do this). Their lips meet in heated passion, both of them leaning in at the same time. She’s touching and claiming again.

Her enthusiasm pushes him back into the TARDIS console (though he’s not trying to escape this time) which he grips before realising he can touch her. One hand winds its way into her elaborate hairdo while the other finds her waist, holding her in to him. Missy, on the other hand, came to this realisation much sooner and has already subjected his hair to a further mussing before settling with one hand grasping the hair at the nape of his neck and the other making its way under his pyjama shirt, nails lightly raking against his skin. He shivers. She bites his lip, a growl emanating in her throat. His response is to push himself closer to her, tongue stroking hers with all the enthusiasm and desperation of a starving man. She’s always been his Moriarty, but now she’s his Irene Adler too.

“Doctor,” she whispers, sending another shiver down his spine. Because she’s missed him. 

She cries out and lets her head fall into the crook of his neck as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot by her collarbone and suck. Because he’s missed her.

For the moment, she’s not the destroyer of worlds and the one responsible for countless amounts of destruction. She’s not the one driven insane by the sound of the drums. He’s not the saviour of world, the spark of hope. He’s not the lonely man with two hearts that care more than should be physically possible. They’re not the Master and the Doctor. They’re just two old friends, two old lovers. It feels right.

By some miracle they manage to make it to the corridor outside the Doctor’s bedroom before Missy’s hand find its way down the front of his pyjama pants, grasping his erection. He suspects that his TARDIS has temporarily rearranged things so that the path to his bedroom is shorter. He’ll have to remember to thank her later. (He mentally adds that to the list of conversations he has to have with his TARDIS - it’s a long list.) He’s the one who’s insisted on the location change - Missy would have ravaged him against the console quite gladly, had he given her the chance. He always feels like the TARDIS is watching him with an almost Orwellian level of surveillance when he’s in the console room. This isn’t one for her to watch.

A soft “ooh” falls from his lips as he is roughly pushed up against the wall, breath knocked out of him. She pulls back to look at him, grinning, teeth bared. She manages to relieve his chest of his shirt, tugging at it sharply in one motion and sending the shiny black buttons scattering across the floor. She at least has the decency to look ashamed, dragging her bottom lip slowly through her teeth. But it’s just for show. It’s all for show. It’s a show the Doctor is glad he has a ticket to. 

His long fingers are much more gentle, but no less desperate. They’re quickly working through the task of undoing her buttons. Her coat, her shirt; there are so many buttons. Oh so many buttons! Her hips grind into his, reminding him of her urgency. He manages to borrow a hand from the momentous button task to reach behind him and find the door handle. He stumbles backwards as the door opens. Missy’s with him all the way, hands never leaving him and beginning to find their way over his hipbones and back below the waistband of his pants, sliding them down.

He pulls the remains of his shirt off as if it’s suffocating him and he needs the air on his bare chest to live. The sleeves get caught on his arms and he pulls it off like a desperate man, tossing it to the floor. His breathing is heavy. The second his pants form a silken puddle at his feet, (courtesy of the Mistress) she pounces on him. He falls back onto the bed, but she’s still with him, climbing on top of him and straddling him. Her lips latch onto his again and he completely forgets to breathe.

When she pulls away, after doing positively sinful things with her tongue, he’s alerted to the clothing inequality situation that’s going on. Whilst he’s lying there naked and pliant beneath her hands, she’s still fully clothed and looking relatively spruce. Although, to be fair, he was at a disadvantage from the start.

She stands, acknowledging the disappointed look in his eyes with a pout of her own. Her coat comes off, carefully placing it on the back of the chair near his bed. She gives him an exasperated look as she slowly undoes the buttons on her cuffs and then the buttons on her blouse. Too slow. ‘Hurry,’ he wants to say, but he’s captivated by her and knows that if he speaks she’ll just take longer. She has a way of always giving him what he wants but denying him what he asks.

The blouse is folded and placed on the chair. Next she steps out of her shoes and tuts as the Doctor’s hands twitch, eager to help divest her of her clothes.

“Patience.”

Once her long skirt is removed, it joins her jacket on the back of the chair. By some grace, her undergarments come off quickly. The last article of clothing to be removed is her hat, which is placed neatly atop the pile of clothing. But she’s not done yet. As she walks back towards him, she pulls pins out of her hair, letting them fall to the ground where they may.

By the time she reaches him, her hair is falling down in luxurious curls. She climbs back atop him and kisses him tenderly. Funny, he didn’t think she could be tender. Her hand slides down his thigh and then back up.

The Doctor places his hands on her hips, rolling them over so he’s on top. Surprisingly, she allows this, sighing as his hand finds its way between her legs. She’s willing and receptive beneath him, and vocalising a myriad of sounds that only serve to encourage him further.

When he enters her, he hears his name fall from her lips, or feels it rather, as her lips are pressed against his skin, softly. Not ‘Doctor’: his Gallifreyan name.

...

The Doctor lies in bed, the cool air kissing his bare chest. A light sheet lies over his lower body and his right side is warmed by the body of the female Time Lord. She’s lying on her side and curled up into him, head resting in the crook of his neck. His arm is around her naked form, holding her to him. She subconsciously taps out a four beat rhythm on his chest. He wonders if she ever still hears the drums.

He lies there looking at the Gallifreyan constellations on his ceiling. They’re animate, and the nearest thing to the real deal he’s seen in centuries. It’s the closest he has felt to home in years. He feels Missy turn her head to look up at them too. He doesn’t have to tell her that he misses it, just as she doesn’t have to tell him.  For the first time in his life, he feels like he truly understands her.

Just two lonely Time Lords in love.

“I want to go back there.”

She gently strokes his hair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a big thank you to everyone reading. A special thanks to the guest 'my heart'. It was so nice to read your lovely review.  
> Secondly, I'm sorry this is so late. I should (hopefully) have the fifth and final chapter posted soon.

Months pass and still the Doctor hasn't heard from Missy. In fact, he hasn't heard even a peep from her since the time she invaded his TARDIS in the middle of the night. She left with a kiss and the promise that they'd meet again soon. Then she was gone, and he hasn't heard from her since.

As the sixth month without her passes, he wonders if he should call her. Then he realises that he doesn't know her number, so that idea goes straight out the TARDIS door. He can go to all of time and space, but it's not the same when he doesn't know where to go to get to where he wants to go. It's like a game of Where's Wally, but it's Where's Missy and she's much more difficult to find (she's even more difficult to find than Wally is in the non-Where's Wally books – apparently they exist; who knew?)

So he begins a systematic search of the universe, hoping that he'll be able to find her or at least find a clue. He begins his search in the year 1842 by the pyramids of Egypt, Earth. He finds an infestation of alien beetles intent on wiping out all forms of paper records, a sure disaster for the historic papyrus scrolls, but no Missy.

Then he visits the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius in the year 90007.5B (and yes, his search is systematic, thank you very much, even if it doesn't conform to any of the systems that puny human brains can comprehend). He has no luck here, but he does gain a new pen pal... If only his phone box was part of a mail delivery route.

Next stop is January the 12th, 3052 on the planet Yule. There's an invasion of mistletoe which has left much of the planet uninhabitable (and no, he doesn't wish that Missy was there with him) but he's able to find a way for the mistletoe and the Yulians to live together in harmony, without the mistletoe taking over the houses and suffocating the Yulian offspring.

After this, the Doctor finds himself on the planet Skaro II where a group of amnesiac Daleks have formed their own society. He gets to witness the birth of a baby Dalek and is pronounced the godfather. It's at this point that he wonders if he should explain his history to the amnesiac Daleks and risk extermination. He does. He explains. Beams of energy are shot and calls of 'ex-ter-mi-nate' are shouted, but the Doctor manages to escape and he thinks he's still the godfather.

Eventually, he makes it to the tenth moon of the planet known simply as Red. It's ironic considering the planet is predominantly blue. He was intending to visit Siluria, but then his TARDIS decides to take him to Red's tenth moon instead, so he just goes with it and pretends it is his intended destination. It happens a lot.

Just as the TARDIS lands, he feels his psychic paper glowing warm against his thigh in his trouser pocket, indicating a message. He ignores it for the time being. There are more important things at the moment like adventure and exploring. He catches a glimpse of himself on the way out and runs his hands down his jacket then straightens his collar. He's not sure why he does this, but he does it all the same.

The Doctor steps outside onto the moon, ready to discover the wonders it holds. It's unseasonably warm for this geographic region and the air tastes strange, but he doesn't heed this as there's something else seriously wrong. He can feel it.

The sound of soft singing catches his attention. It's light and melodic and for a moment it fills his hearts with warmth. He turns to his right and of course it's her.

"So you got my message," Missy says, not even bothering to turn around to look at him. She knows it's him.

The Doctor pulls his psychic paper out of his pocket and opens it to see the message she sent him.

I've got a surprise for you

45 00 912: D12

xxx

He looks up at her. She's happy, ecstatic even, twirling around and occasionally singing to herself as she occupies herself with some wires and cables that lead to a large machine. It can only mean bad news. This is more than enough to get him worried.

"What have you done?"

His face is stern and concerned, a sharp contrast to her glee. She spins around, arms extended wide, and draws his gaze towards the planet below.

"Tadaa!"

His eyes follow the lines of her arms to see the planet Red behind her. It's red. It's burning. He knows it's her doing.

This is no ordinary out of control forest fire. The whole planet is burning. Not just the surface either. The planet is burning right to its core. If he listens carefully he can even hear it screaming - because planets do that as they die, scream and wail as their inevitable destruction comes. It's painful to listen to. It's even more painful to watch. Gone are the bright blue trees and turquoise fields. Gone are swiftly flowing yellow rivers that wound their way across the land like veins. Even the famous temple of Azure has been consumed by the blaze, gone, never to be again. The planet is dying. The people are surely already dead.

The Doctor feels rage build up inside him, a fire much like the one on the planet below. He strides over to Missy, fury in his eyes.

"Why would you do this? What could you possibly have to gain from this futile eradication?"

"Oh, Doctor" she replies, as if he couldn't ever understand. He can't.

"Let me tell you a story."

Missy sits down on the edge of a nearby crater and gestures that the Doctor should do the same. He disobeys. This causes Missy to fold her arm and give him a disapproving look. He doesn't even need to hear her speak to know that she's telling him she won't start the story until he sits down. And he needs to hear it. He needs to know.

So he sits, and Missy begins to talk.

"Once upon a time there was a little blue bug. The little blue bug considered himself to be a good bug, a nice bug and an important bug, but he was so small and trivial. The little blue bug lived in a little blue house with a lovely blue garden and a nice little pond. He was so boring. Then along came the big orange bug. He was mighty, powerful and smart. He really was the supreme bug. Now the big orange bug wasn't happy. In fact, he was downright upset. The big orange bug didn't have a nice home like the little blue bug anymore and that made him sad. So he went over to talk to the little blue bug and he said," at this point she donned a deep voice, "'Little Blue Bug, you're in my way. I can't have a nice big orange house when your silly little blue house is in my way. You need go.' And then the little blue bug said," her voice became high pitched and mocking at this point, "'Oh no! Please don't hurt me, Mr Big Orange Bug.' But the big orange bug just laughed because the little blue bug was so tiny and insignificant and couldn't even stand up against the might and power of the big orange bug. But it wasn't funny, not really, because the little blue bug was in the big orange bug's way and the big orange bug couldn't live there while the little blue bug was still around. So the big orange bug used his wits and power to fashion a plan. Then he pulled out a special gun and shot the little blue bug with twelve trillion volts of electricity and watched him burn. Then pop! The little blue bug imploded! Then the big orange bug collected up all the residual energy from the little blue bug and used it to start renovating the little blue bug's house in order to turn it into a nice big orange house for the big orange bug. Of course, some of the neighbours had to go too to make room for the big orange bug's home, but the big orange bug got rid of them easily. Soon the big orange bug had a lovely big orange palace where he lived and ruled forever more. The end."

Missy sighs, smiling, and folds her hands in her lap. "What a happy ending."

The Doctor is still in shock. He fails to see how that ending could be considered anything but tragic. But he feels there's a lesson to be learnt from it all. He thinks he knows who the little blue bug is.

"So you've brought me here to kill me," he says calmly, standing up. It's not like this is a new situation. He's been here before. In fact, if there was a book called 'How to Get Out of Your Own Death for Dummies' he'd likely be the author. Perhaps he should write that one of these days

Missy rolls her eyes dramatically at him. "It's all about you, you, you, Doctor."

Her sarcasm practically radiates off her in waves. She stands and walks over to him, poking him in the chest.

"The Mistress is here to kill me," she mimics in a whiny and high pitched voice. "She's doing horrible, terrible things. I must stop her. Oh poor Doctor. I have to stop her before she kills me."

She rolls her eyes again.

"Grow up, Doctor," she says aggressively as she walks past him. "Not everything I do is about you."

As she passes him, her face falls, the mask gone as her vulnerability leaks through. Because, in a way, he's right. This is about him. It's all for him, and he doesn't even appreciate it.

"I won't let you do this," the Doctor vows, turning and walking after her. She spins around, her mask back on.

"Look at it, Doctor. It's done. You're too late." The Doctor looks down at the planet Red below and sees it's no longer completely red but is now a big ball of ash dusted with a few glowing embers. It appears to be shrinking in on itself, ash falling into the core. The Mistress continues.

"While you were off gallivanting around the universe, I was getting things done. I built the machine to harvest the planet's energy. I set the planet on fire. I burnt it down. I did it all, for you."

She realises the moment she says it that her control has slipped. But she still has power over him and she knows it. She goes on, because she knows that, if she's talking, the Doctor is listening, and she needs him to hear her.

"I've got ambition. Do you know what you want, Doctor? I know what I want. Of course, you know what you want, don't you?" Her voice softens as she trails a finger along his cheek. She's mocking him. "But you won't get it. You can't. You don't have the drive. You won't do what it takes. But I will. Tell me, Doctor, what do you want?"

He doesn't have an answer. On a good day, all he wants is his TARDIS, a companion and an adventure. On his darker days, he just wants everyone to live. But there's something off in a deep dark corner of his mind that he wants more than anything. He keeps it hidden there, locked up, because if he lets it out the need will consume him and he'll surely become a dangerous man. He can't let that happen. He doesn't trust himself and there's no one to hold him back, no one to trust. There is only disappointment and devastation in that corner of his mind, so he keeps it locked away. But then there, a tiny flicker in the very darkest corner, is hope. And true happiness.

"Isn't it pretty," Missy says as she watches the last of the flames die down.

"It's destruction," is all he can say.

"I did it for you, for us," she explains truthfully. "I would burn whole solar systems for you, Doctor. Galaxies even. I would lock you up safely in a box with me, just the two of us, and set fire to the universe around us then watch it burn with you."

"I don't want you to," he says, making sure he is very clear with her.

"You don't know what you want," she retorts, because she knows that she knows him better than he knows himself.

"Yes, I do," he argues. The anger's back, the fire.

"Then go and get it," she orders slowly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

For a moment, in his rage, the dark corner of his mind opens and the contents starts flooding out, rolling over him and pleasuring him with images that he daren't dream of. Then he's stuffing it all back in as quickly as he can, hiding it, pushing it away. Stuff it in a drawer, if you must. Hide it under the bed. Just get it out of sight and out of mind. He looks out towards the dying planet as he pushes the last of his desire back into its confines. He can't want it. Life doesn't work like that.

The Doctor hears the rhythmical beep of a timer coming from Missy's mess of cables and wires. It beeps one last time and then he witnesses the final implosion of Red. There's a bright light that blinds him for a moment and then there's nothing, a vast empty space where a stunning, bright planet once lived. He can't even look at it. He can't look at her. There's nothing he can do now. It's too late, and there's no reason for him to be here.

He walks back towards his TARDIS without a final word. His feet move slowly, dragging along the ground. His eyes are downcast and defeated. He's tired, and for once he really feels his 2000 years of age.

Missy watches him as her machine collects the final bits of residual energy from the implosion. It's crucial she gets this. She grabs the small vial – bigger on the inside – once it's full and rushes over to the Doctor. He's leaving and he hasn't even said good bye.

She stops him just as he's halfway in his TARDIS door. He turns around to find her close behind him, almost touching. Her face is soft and dare he say it remorseful. She looks like a puppy that's just discovered its master isn't too pleased to find his shoe has been chewed. She stands up on her toes and kisses him for the briefest moment. He doesn't respond, and it breaks her hearts.

"I did this for you, you know," she says despondently.

"Don't."

With that, the Doctor steps inside his TARDIS and shuts the door behind him. Missy's face falls immediately. What she doesn't see is that the Doctor's does the same. As soon as the door is shut, he slumps against it, back against the blue doors.

He closes his eyes and all he sees is that planet burning. The fire, the bright glowing tendrils rising up towards space. The ashes, dark and contrasting sharply against the few remaining embers, sliding slowly into the planet's core. He sees the planet's final implosion, the flash of light. Then he sees Missy watching it all. He sees it all again from behind her shoulder. He sees the fire, the ashes, the implosion. He sees her face, smiling, glowing in the light of the flames. He sees the fire reflecting in her eyes. For a moment, he thinks it's beautiful. Then he sees the darkness, the black abyss left in the planets absence, and his hearts fall again.

He needs to get out of there. He needs to run. He'll go wherever his TARDIS will take him. He needs to escape, but he can't escape the image in his mind of the fire reflected in her eyes. It's beautiful.

Outside, Missy closes her eyes and sighs.

"Twelve down, one to go."


	5. Chapter 5: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split the last chapter into 2 parts as it is quite long.   
> Part 2 coming soon!

_She comes to him in a dream, invading his mind._

_“I’m going to make you do bad things,” she says._

*****

The Doctor runs. After watching Missy destroy the beautiful planet for what was apparently her own amusement, he can’t face the universe. He spends 379 days floating out in between Galaxy 718B and 719. He doesn’t see anyone. He doesn’t speak to anyone. He doesn’t need anyone.

He spends his days redecorating the TARDIS - she needed some more round things and buttons, and quite frankly she deserves some attention after the way he’s treated her recently. Once he’s done this, he re-alphabetises his vast library and then reads his complete collection on metaphysics, making annotations in the margins. He gets in an argument with Kant, although since the latter is absent it’s a largely one-sided argument and as such doesn’t last long – that is, not for more than a few days.  He briefly contemplates popping back in time to continue the argument face to face, but by this point his TARDIS has dinged, signalling that the sink cupboard is finished (he figures he needed a new one, though he isn’t sure why).

The TARDIS keeps him fed and hums and whirs softly to him when he feels most alone. He talks aloud and philosophises to himself, drawing inspiration from the local stars and constellations outside his door. He finds a canvas and an easel stored away in one of the TARDIS’s many junk rooms and sets it up. He paints. It’s only when he’s finished that he realises he’s painted Gallifrey – two dark unidentifiable figures running through a lush red field, one chasing the other. He hides the painting in a small cupboard in a dark corner of the TARDIS’s fifth basement, out of sight and subsequently, he hopes, out of mind. It’s not easy, but with time he is able to distract himself. 

When the TARDIS warns him that there’s another TARDIS approaching, he leaves the area.

He travels to a remote Earth desert in the year 1402 and sleeps. He’s exhausted. He feels like he’s just regenerated and he needs to sleep for days.

Missy continues to enter his mind, dominating his thoughts both awake and asleep.

_“You will obey your Mistress,”_ she tells him. He revolts.

She laughs. He submits.

He tries to get her out of his mind. She refuses to leave.  

He wakes after three days, tense and unrested, to the sound of the TARDIS’s radar alarm, again signifying the approach of a fellow time ship, and runs again.

He pilots his TARDIS to the first place he can think of: Rit. He’s about to get out of the TARDIS when he remembers the trouble he got into the last time he was there and thinks better of it. Instead, he settles down with a cup of tea in a rather comfy chair in one of the TARDIS’s older, less used rooms. He finds a copy of Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree that’s he’s halfway through – he thinks it was his 7th regeneration that started it – and continues to read. He finds a kindred spirit in the Angry Pixie and is quite taken by Mr Watzisname. By the end of it, he’s creating blueprints of the TARDIS in his head and figuring out how he can fit a spiral slide in. He wonders if Silky would like to travel with him.

When he realises he’s out of sugar for his tea, he knows it’s time to move on. He’s got to find a grocery store, or a place that grows sugar. Either will do. He ends up in Scotland, Earth, in the year 2001 and he exits his TARDIS for the first time in years. It’s only then that it hits him that he’s been alone for all that time. He’s delighted by the people he finds there and decides to stay for a while, the sugar mission forgotten. He can’t quite recount what happens here – he doesn’t hold his alcohol so well – but he does distinctly remember the words “you can’t throw me out of this establishment” being yelled, most likely by himself, although he’s not past putting the blame on his new found friend, James. Then he hears the distant sound of a TARDIS landing and everything becomes a bit darker. He looks up to the sky above and yells, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Then he’s running, stumbling over his feet in his haste to get back to his TARDIS and escape. Just as he’s about to step into the safety of his ship, he looks back up at the sky above.

“Please,” he begs.

He can’t be sure, but he thinks he hears _her_ laughing.

He stomps into the TARDIS, tripping over his feet as he does. The room’s spinning (probably the TARDIS playing a joke on him, certainly not the effects of the copious alcoholic beverages he’s consumed that night) and he thinks he might pass out. Without thinking, he types in the coordinates he knows so well, forever ingrained in the depths of his mind.

10-0-11-00:02

It’s only after he’s set the TARDIS in flight and is about to land that he realises his mistake. He presses every button and leaver he can from his slumped position on the floor, not caring about the potential cosmic disaster he could be creating. He can’t go there because he can’t face that empty planetless space again. He’ll bring about any amount of destruction just to stop himself from feeling that pain; he’s being selfish, but the alternative is a reality he knows he can’t face again. So he pulls and pushes at every control belonging to his TARDIS.

And then he’s there: Gallifrey. There’s a slight breeze whispering around him. He’s in a rich red meadow that stretches out as far as the eye can see.  It’s so vast and he’s all alone, but he’s home. He breathes in deeply. He’d forgotten how good it is to feel the Gallifreyan air filling his lungs.  The sunlight warms his face and his hearts. He’s tempted to run through the long grass or spin around with his arms stretched out and drop to the ground.  He wants to look to the sky and fall to the ground and just touch it all, experience it again, because he’s home. He’s home!

He feels the Master behind him, the soft pads of her fingers soothing his temples, sharing this moment of elation with him. He sees the sunrise. He sees the familiar rounds thing ahead of him. He sees nothing but the meadow and the soft Gallifreyan sunset. He sees one of the bookshelves off in the grass. He can feel lips forming into a smile against his left shoulder blade.

He feels the Master behind him, the soft pads of her fingers soothing his temples as the illusion fades away and is replaced with the harsh, dark reality of his TARDIS’ console room.

The Doctor immediately jumps out of her touch before she can impose anymore of her false images on him.

“Oh come now, Doctor,” she says as she steps towards him. “Our little fun doesn’t have to end there.”

He continues backing away. He’s sobered up – there’s nothing like a freezing cold bucket of reality dumped on one’s head to do that, that and the body of a time lord.

“I could show you more,” Missy breathes.

Her eyes are fixed on him, luring him in and not blinking, like she’s a wild cat and he’s her prey. He wonders if she’d pounce if he ran. But where would he run? She’s invaded his TARDIS again. She’ll always find him, no matter where he runs. So he does something he rarely does. He begs.

“Mistress, please.”

Because he can’t deal with this. The feeling of again coming to the empty space where Gallifrey once is is too much for him, especially since this time he’s got the sight of the Gallifreyan sky in his mind and he swears he can still feel the Gallifreyan air in his lungs.

Missy’s face softens and she swiftly glides over to where he’s fallen to his knees. Wordlessly, she drops down beside him, cradling his head in her hands and gently pulling it onto her chest. If the Doctor had been in a clearer mind space, he might have noticed her gently rocking him back and forth. Yes, as strange as it is, she is soothing him. Even stranger, he’s actually relaxing.

She speaks again once she’s sure he’s calmed down enough to think rationally (or as rational as he can be without getting to the point where he would consider it irrational to be in her arms). “I can take you there.”

He begins to protest, uttering a few “no”s and pulling away from her. She pulls him closer, soothing him again with her voice.

“Not the fantasy in our heads. I can take you to the real deal.”

It’s a sign of the number of times he’s been shafted by the Master that he doesn’t show even a little hint of enthusiasm towards this idea. He’s had Gallifrey flaunted in front of him and then snatched away just as it’s nearly in his grip too many times now. Perhaps it’s better for his mental health (and his TARDIS console) if he just lets Gallifrey lie where it is and continues on with his life on other planets – a traveller just stopping by.

But the Mistress is persuasive (oh does he ever know that).

“Come on, Doctor,” she says. “Don’t you want to go home? We could go there. I just need a little help from you. You could be the saviour of our people. The great Doctor, home at last to save his people. It could be just like the old days. You and I can run through the fields without a care in the world. We’ll sneak out at night and hide in the Cadonwood trees and we’ll talk about the stars and the future and when they come looking for us we’ll hide and say we’re never going back, but then we’ll get hungry and sneak back in and pretend we were in our bunks the whole time. Don’t you want it back? Don’t you want Gallifrey back, Doctor?”

When she speaks again, she’s quieter and the Doctor can detect a note of true desperation in her words.

“Don’t you want _us_ back?”

“Okay.”

At first she’s so stunned that she almost believes she’s heard wrong. But then he repeats the confirmation and jumps up. He’s got that look of fire and determination in his eyes that she so loves.

The Doctor bounds over to the console, fluttering around the controls for a moment before realising that he has no idea what this plan actually entails. There is a plan, he believes, and it’s not just one of those situations where he can dance around and wait for a thing to happen. So, against all his instincts, he utters the words he never thought he would say to his best enemy.

“How can I help with your plan?”

Missy rolls her eyes and mutters to herself as she walks to join him by the console, “not by flailing around like an idiot, that’s for sure.”

But still the Doctor continues to flail around like an excited puppy who knows he’s about to get a treat as Missy goes and takes over the controls, piloting the TARDIS off to somewhere unknown. The Doctor manages to stop his flailing in order to sulk at Missy taking over his ship – he’s definitely not finding this sight even a little bit attractive, and yes the feeling is the same as when he watched his wife fly the TARDIS, but he does not find Missy running her hands over his TARDIS’ controls and manipulating them like it’s an art and her masterful hands are creating a masterpiece even the slightest bit attractive; most certainly not. When he reaches for the scanner to try to discern where they are going, she smacks his hand away. The Mistress is in charge.

So instead the Doctor decides to unleash his inner child and proceed with a succession of “Where are we going?”, “Where are you taking me?” and “Are we there yet?” type questions. The last one is, of course, a ridiculous question given that the TARDIS was clearly still in flight. Missy is almost, for a second, tempted to toss him out the TARDIS doors midflight, forget the plan and then use the stolen TARDIS to cause havoc all over the universe. Almost.

“Oh shut up, Doctor!” Missy eventually snaps when she can’t take anymore of his questioning. The Doctor ceases immediately, his mouth wide open in comical O shape.

“Yes,” she says with a definite smugness. “I stole your saying.”

The Doctor shuts his mouth and remains quiet, still in some semblance of shock. If anyone asked, he’d blame it on the lingering Earth alcohol in his system.

“Good boy,” Missy croons in response to his sudden silence.

He remains silent, stubbornly facing away from her. Not because she told him too, because he’s pouting and she doesn’t deserve to hear his voice when she talks to him like that. Then, very softly, he hears her speak again.

“We’re here.”

Now that’s something that’s got his attention. He turns to her again, his previous sulking forgotten, focused and full of anticipation.

“Are you ready, Doctor?” she asks. He nods. He knows he’s been ready to get his home back for centuries. “Oh, Doctor, don’t be so sure.” 


	6. Chapter 5: Part 2

 

Missy steps out of the TARDIS.  The Doctor follows at a suitable distance behind her; he’s certainly not keen to be close to her or stand next to her with their shoulders nearly touching or anything of the sort.

Missy stops. The Doctor stands next to her, their shoulders nearly touching. What he sees before him is a familiar scene. He starts to shake his head and turn away to go back to his TARDIS, uttering ‘no’ repeatedly to himself, but Missy grabs his coat to stop him. The scene is so familiar because it’s almost an identical sight to what he’s just spent the past few years running from.

It’s déjà vu. Missy’s TARDIS is there and once again it has numerous cables attached to it, all leading to a complicated set of more wires and boxes and satellite dishes. There’s a planet out in front of them, but this time it’s not burning. Yet.

“So, Doctor,” she says. "Would you like the honours?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s not happening.”

“Come on.”

“I’m not doing it. I will not burn this planet.”

Missy sighs.

“Oh, Doctor, don’t you get it? This isn’t just for fun - I mean it is fun, but that’s not the point.”

“No.”

“It wouldn’t take much.”

“No.”

“I’ve done all the hard work.”

“No.”

“Just a little bit of your magic sonic screwdriver work and voila!”

“No.”

“He wants you to do it.”

This gets the Doctor to stop.

“There’s a man down there?”

“Would you like to talk to him?”

The fact that Missy wants him to talk to this man seems contrary to her plan and almost throws him off, so he consents. Missy fiddles with a few buttons on her little pocket death ray – the Doctor briefly wonders if she built a new one or if she stole it back from him on the night she seduced him – and then a screen appears. On it there is a young man. The Doctor guesses that he has to be between the ages of 2 and 349, give or take a couple of years – although most people would guess he is around his mid forties by Earth standards. He sits alone, staring out into the distance, pensive and calm. When he notices the video connection has been made, he looks up.

“Mistress,” he greets, solemn but without a trace of fear. “Is it time?”

“I’ve got someone here who wants to talk to you, Puerigni.”

“Oh, your boyfriend?” he says before turning to find the Doctor on the view screen – the Doctor briefly mouths the word ‘boyfriend?’ to Missy in annoyance, to which she shrugs her shoulders. “She mentioned you might want to talk to me.”

“Puerigni,” the Doctor says, his voice fuelled by the integrity of a good man. “I just want you to know that I’m not going to do this. Whatever she’s threatened you with, I’m going to help you sort it. I am going to keep you alive.”

“She said you might say that,” Puerigni replies with all the apathy of someone who is not about to beg for his death. “Let me tell you my story: I was born here on planet Ustura in the fourth year of the Alpha 25 fire cycle. My people, the Ardens, we came from a long line of fire planets spread out across the Ardenite galaxy. With the rapid expansion of the galaxy, our planets have been moving further and further from the three suns. We have prayed to our God, Flammis, but she has not been able to stop the spread of the big cold. My people have been dying. All throughout Ardentite the fire planets have been dying. Deflam was frozen many years ago, the people all dead. Temtellurem managed to give the ultimate gift to Flammis before they died: their burning planet. One by one the other planets died with my people until Ustura was the only one left. Then the Usturans died. Just last week I lost my wife and child.”He gestures towards two bodies behind him, huddled together, their lips an icy blue. “Now I am the only one left, the only Arden left on the only fire planet in the Ardenite galaxy. Now you may be wondering why I am telling you this. I tell you this not for your pity, but so you will understand. My people, aside from the unfortunate people of Deflam – Flammis bless their frozen souls - have passed on into the land of fire where I shall join them. Before I die, I wish to sacrifice my planet Ustura and the bodies of my people to our God Flammis so that we may travel into the fire realm. This is where I must ask for your help, Doctor. I cannot burn this planet alone. I need you to do it for me.”

The Doctor sits there for a moment. He has been touched by Puerigni’s story, but he cannot condone throwing this innocent life away for a bit of fun for the Master.

“Puerigni, I can save you. I can take you somewhere safe where you can live,” he says, in an attempt to discourage this suicide mission.

“She said you’d say that too,” Puerigni replies with a small chuckle. “The Mistress, she really does know you well. But I don’t want to be saved. I don’t want to fly to a strange planet and live out the rest of my days amongst strangers. You know what it’s like to be the only one, don’t you, Doctor. I want to live and die with my people, I want to burn with them as a true Arden should.”

“Perhaps this is where I should come in,” Missy interrupts. “See there’s a reason to all this, Doctor. I’m not just doing a good deed here by burning young Puerigni’s planet. There’s something in it for us too. I found a way to get Gallifrey back, but it will take the residual energy of dying planets, plus a little bit of planetorial rearranging.”

“You’ve been burning planets,” the Doctor accuses, shocked that this isn’t just a one (nearly two) time thing.

She nods. “Twelve to be precise, soon to be a lucky thirteen.”

“You’ve been burning them to get Gallifrey back,” the Doctor states, still in shock. He can’t decide whether he’s happy she’s been working so hard to bring their home back or horrified by the destruction she’s brought about.

“Well, I’ve got to pass the time somehow,” Missy says casually, trying to brush it off.

“Red?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“Fuel,” she replies casually, inspecting her nails.

“Locomosolarem?”

“Kindling.”

“Planet of the teddy bears?”

The Mistress gasps. “What sort of person do you take me for? Why would I burn the only creatures in this world who love me almost as much as you do?”

The Doctor gives her a look indicating he doesn’t believe her. Although those bears did love her a lot.

“The planet’s ash along with the native habitants.... except for the bears. They’re off on their own new planet with no predators and all the strawberry ice cream they could ever dream of – it’s their favourite, you know. Oh don’t look at me like that, Doctor.”

“No, it’s just that last deed was actually very kind of you.”

“I give him an army of Cybermen and he can’t wait to kill me. I move a few bears to a more convenient location and suddenly he’s ready to worship the ground I walk on,” the Mistress mutters to herself.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” the Doctor protests.

The clearing of a throat brings them back to the situation at hand.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your flirting, but it’s getting quite cold down here,” Puerigni says, shivering, though it’s not for emphasis. The Doctor tears his eyes away from the Mistress and looks back to the screen. He’s torn. Everyone apart from him is pushing the fire as the right course of action.

“Puerigni, are you absolutely certain about it?” the Doctor asks.

“I have never been more certain about anything in my life,” Puerigni replies. “It will be an honour to burn with my planet and my people for Flammis. Please, Doctor. You know what it’s like to be alone. I want to do this.”

The Doctor contemplates this for a moment. This doesn’t sit well with him. In fact, it goes against almost everything he stands for, but he can’t deny that Puerigni has made his choice and it is a win/win situation for both sides. He doesn’t so much as agree to this as frown a little less, to which Missy jumps up and claps her hands with glee.

“Setting 74B on your sonic screwdriver, Doctor,” she says. “Just over here.”

“There is no setting 74B.”

“Maybe not on your primitive technology, Doctor, but you’re forgetting that this new sonic of yours isn’t just a play thing. It’s proper Mistress technology – not to be scoffed at – and there is a setting 74B. It’s the fire setting – it even does wood.”

The Doctor hesitates, still torn and unable to act. He’s a little disgruntled that she’s been able to design a setting that does wood.

“Of course, I could do it for you, Doctor,” the Mistress says and she steps behind him, sliding her hand up his back and over his shoulder. “But you want to do it. You want the glory. You want to save Gallifrey. You want to fit the last piece in the puzzle and complete it. You want to be the saviour of your people and bring your home back, don’t you? I could make you a big red button if it would make it easier.”

He shakes his head, trying to brush off her taunting, but inside he can’t deny that he does want to save his planet.

“74B,” she whispers.

With the sound of her whispers in his head, before he can change his mind, he plugs the sonic into the port she indicated and presses the buttons for setting 74B. All at once, a large lightning bolt streams through the cabling from Missy’s TARDIS and strikes the planet below.

 “Thank you, Doctor,” Puerigni says sincerely before stepping away from the screen.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Missy croons. She’s proud of her Doctor.

“I’m not turning into you,” he says, mostly to himself so he believes it isn’t so.

He still doesn’t know if doing a bad thing to please all those involved and bring about two good things is right. It’s more ambiguous, floating in a moral grey area.

“I’m not turning into you,” he repeats.

They sit together as the planet burns, Missy’s TARDIS harvesting all the precious energy. The Doctor is somber while Missy hums an upbeat tune to herself. Off to the side, Puerigni can be seen on the screen standing with his arms open wide and a smile on his face as his planet burns around him. He’s going home to his people.

“You know this is going to fry your TARDIS,” the Doctor says to Missy once they are in minute 42 of the planet burning process.

“I know,” Missy replies and the Doctor thinks he might be able to detect a faint hint of sadness and loss in her voice. “The fans will keep it going on long enough to complete the energy transfer and ...”

He knows her next words were going to be ‘bring Gallifrey back’ but now there’s a hint of doubt in her mind, as if she’s no longer completely sure her plan will work.

“You won’t have a TARDIS,” he continues.

“You’ll have a planet. I’ll make do.”

Silence falls between them.

“You must have been working on this for a while.”

“Well, I was a man when I first started,” she replies, not bragging but not entirely humble either. She wants him to praise her, though she’d never let him know.

“So you regenerated while you were...” he trails off, imagining the horrors that had forced her regeneration.

“Play with fire and you’re going to get burned,” she cuts in sharply. Then her voice softens. “Plus, some regeneration energy was needed.”

“You should have told me,” he says, still viewing her with concern. “I could have – “

She scoffs, cutting him off.

They fall silent again, both still thinking about what the other just said.

“I know,” Missy eventually says, reaching out to gently stroke his cheek. She knows he would have regenerated to save her the pain, just as she did in advance for him.

As the Doctor sits and watches the planet burn, he realises just how much sacrifice has had to occur to make this happen. He wonders if it is worth it.

Missy’s TARDIS groans and the pair watch as it begins to shake. The TARDIS begins to rise up from the ground, still shaking. The cables fall to the ground one by one. The energy transfer is complete, but the process isn’t completely done. The TARDIS circles and then dematerialises. It’s evident that this is part of the plan as Missy shows no surprise at the disappearance of her TARDIS.

“Where’s it gone?” the Doctor asks.

“Home,” Missy replies softly.

The Doctor places his hand on her arm in a comforting gesture. He knows that he would be heartbroken if it were his TARDIS that was sacrificed.

Missy abruptly stands, brushing off his concern.

“Alright, Mr Taxi Driver,” she says as she reaches out a hand to help him stand. “I need a lift.”

They walk back towards the Doctor’s TARDIS, their arms linked like they did when they were children. The Doctor doesn’t even think anything of it. It feels natural, an old habit they’ve fallen back into.

“Where to?” he says as he holds the door open for her and reaches out to take her hand and help her into his blue box.

“Gee, Doctor, you sure know how to treat a lady,” she teases in response to his newfound chivalry towards her. “It’s like you think you’re taking me on a date.”

The Doctor mumbles something under his breath, frowning, and stomps off to the TARDIS console. He certainly hadn’t meant to give her that impression. It was just a well mannered, friendly gesture, like getting someone a bunch of their favourite flowers or going out of your way to take them to a planet which you hate but you know they will love or giving them a passionate kiss or taking them to a fancy space restaurant on Valentine’s Da... wait... no.

“Where to?” the Doctor repeats, still chastising himself for his mistake.

“10-0-11-00:02”

The Doctor scoffs, though there’s nothing about it that he finds funny. All the sacrifice has been for nothing.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “No, no, no.”

He can’t believe he’s been this stupid, to help her in her plans and then fall for the same trick again.

“Trust me,” she whispers, sidling up to him and putting her hand on his shoulder. The act brings heat to the appendage and begins to weaken his resolve.

“No.” He shakes his head again. He won’t look at her.

“Go on,” she says softly, moving around to his front and forcing him to face her. “It might be fun.”

“No.” His resolve has definitely been wounded.

“Just try it,” she continues, “for me”.

“No.” It’s a fatal wound.

“Go on. Trust me.”

He punches in the coordinates, almost breaking the buttons in the process. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if she’s messing with him again. He can only imagine that the destruction will probably extend far beyond his TARDIS and his hearts. He knows he’ll take her down with him too if it comes to it.

When the TARDIS lands, the Doctor walks over to the doorway without even acknowledging Missy. He closes his eyes and opens the TARDIS doors. A bird twitters, playing a soft and short welcoming melody. A gentle breeze passes by, bringing with it a distantly familiar taste. The Doctor takes a deep breath.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees his home.

As he steps off the TARDIS onto the ground of his home, he silently thanks each and every inhabitant of the planets sacrificed to bring him home. He half expects himself to fall into space, because surely this can’t be real, but it is. The coordinates must have worked. Either that or he’s clicked his heels thrice and said “there’s no place like home”.

He’s in a small field, far from the hustle and bustle of the city centre, but it’s still home. The long carmine grass whispers in a wind that carries the unmistakeable smell of Gallifrey. He remembers it now.

He takes another step, still not entirely sure that it all won’t fade away. It’s got to be real because he sees Missy’s dying TARDIS smoking off to his left. He steps again and again, still not completely certain. Then he’s running. He runs across the field, just like in the old days, and he knows he’s home.

He stops running and pauses to take in the beauty of his homeland. Then he hears the soft clearing of a throat behind him.

“Is it okay?” Missy asks hesitantly. She looks so vulnerable, waiting for the reassurance that she’s made him happy.

The Doctor knows there’s only one thing to do. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply. He lets his lips reassure her in a way that his words never could. They say ‘thank you’.

When they finally separate, there are matching smiles on both Time Lords’ faces.

The Doctor reaches for her hand and pulls her in by the waist when she accepts. Her hand finds his shoulder and they begin to dance. There’s no music except for the distant sound of the warbling Gallifreyan wildlife. As they waltz, their quartet of hearts beat out a four beat rhythm, a song in four/four time.

The Doctor looks at Missy, his old friend. They’ve both done some controversial things to end up here, but he can’t fault either of them more than the other. They both played their parts with the same justification for the same end goal. Maybe she was right and they’re not so different after all. The Doctor gazes into her eyes and sees himself reflected back– his happiness, her happiness; her pain, his pain; his doubts, her doubts; her love, his...  He can’t deny it anymore.

There will be a mess of complications to deal with when they return to the Citadel, but for now that doesn’t matter.

They’ve finally found their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we are at the end. I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, commented, kudos...ed(?), favourited, alerted, bookmarked etc and mostly to those of you who have stuck around until the end. 
> 
> Initially I started this as a sort of season 9 predictions/wish list to pass the time after season 8 finished and it has certainly grown quite considerably from my original idea. I'm actually quite sad to be finishing it, although I'm sure I'll be back writing some more Twissy once the season 9 starts.


End file.
